


These Damn Crosswinds

by A_nonnie_mouse



Series: The Trouble With Wanting [3]
Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Also There's A Heist, Angst, BAMF Inej Ghafa, Body Image, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, I Wrote This Mostly Because Kanej Shippers Are Wonderful People, Kissing, Love Confessions, Mostly Kanej With A Good Bit Of Jesper Throughout, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, Trigger Warning: Minor Mention of Suicide, We All Want Tante Heleen To Die, all the feels, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25612021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_nonnie_mouse/pseuds/A_nonnie_mouse
Summary: A sea captain required a clear view. A heart required aim to land true. She was trying her best, really. But these damn crosswinds could really fuck things up.From a reader's request: Inej hates struggling with self-esteem and body issues after her time in the Menagerie. Especially when the emotional baggage tends to ruin moments with Kaz.
Relationships: Jesper Fahey & Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker & Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker & Jesper Fahey, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Minor Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck - Relationship
Series: The Trouble With Wanting [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794271
Comments: 35
Kudos: 237
Collections: Six of Crows





	These Damn Crosswinds

**Author's Note:**

> A reader made an intriguing request for a fic about Inej struggling with body shame issues/self-esteem issues from her time in the Menagerie and how it might affect her relationship with Kaz when they became physical. The idea seemed right at home with my “Trouble With Wanting” collection, but I couldn’t seem to find a good smut angle for it like the others in this series while still getting across what I wanted Inej to discover. So, this is a bit different than the other pieces -- it follows the headcanon of the series, but focuses less on sex. I hope you’ll give it a read anyway. And if you’re a new reader and like this one, be aware that the other works in this series have a Mature rating and feature explicit sexual content. ☺ I also got a request for more Jesper and Wylan, so I’ve sprinkled some of that in as well. Thanks for following along!

“We never do this anymore. It’s a shame,” Jesper Fahey whispered, as he fiddled with his pistol, hunched behind the ledge of the factory’s roof.

Inej Ghafa threw him a grin from the shadows where she kept her back pressed against the wall. She had an ideal view of the lamp-lit streets below where other members of the Dregs would soon be making a getaway.

The Black Tips had spent weeks amassing gold and silver bars in a series of explosive bank robberies. But, like any good Crow, tempted by shiny things, Kaz Brekker had found the stash. It was going to require all hands on deck, but the Dregs would be leaving with their haul tonight. And when Brekker found a way to turn a profit bargaining with the banks for their safe return, all the better.

“You miss illegal activity?” she asked. Jesper shrugged.

“I miss lookout duty with you,” he clarified. “This is taking me back to your baby Wraith days.” And he feigned flicking a tear from his bronze cheek.

“Shut up.” Inej grinned as she jabbed at him with her toes.

“They grow up so fast.” Jesper held a hand to his chest, a mockery of a mother hen mourning her empty nest.

“We don’t have to wait until Kaz deems it necessary to pull you out of retirement to catch up, you know,” Inej pointed out. “You could come up for air and leave your love nest when I’m in town and get waffles with me.”

Jesper scoffed, quickly shooting a glance at the street they were supposed to be watching, before turning back to Inej with a raised eyebrow.

“Number one, that’s rude,” he ribbed, “and number two, you are always welcome in my love nest.”

“Gross,” Inej whispered.

“You said it first. And you could make some time in Brekker’s scheming schedule for me. Although, that would require you tear yourself away from whatever deviant behavior you two are into. Which I’m assuming is and also hoping is not dismembering bodies while maintaining uncomfortably long eye contact.”

Inej had to tightly press her lips together to hold back the laugh as she jabbed at him repeatedly with her foot.

“Hey _hey_ you’re going to give away our position,” Jesper hissed as he dodged her feet.

“For your information,” Inej said, “he’s been changing. Growing. We both have.”

“I have noticed he wears the gloves less,” Jesper nodded. “Does that mean he’s graduated to poking instead of intense staring?”

Inej paused a moment, something strange twisting in her gut. Kaz hadn’t told Jesper anything about them, she realized. Not that Kaz Brekker was known for being particularly forthcoming. Still. It had been ages since Kaz and Inej struck a deal with each other, laying out their intentions to try for something more. She had known it was safest to keep it secret, especially at first. The streets of Ketterdam crawled with thugs who would love nothing more than to take advantage of Kaz Brekker’s weaknesses. But to keep it from their friends? From _Jesper_? An old, familiar uneasiness was sinking in.

_She knew being with Kaz was going to present challenges. Hell, being with anyone was going to present challenges. What she hadn’t expected was how many would rear up for a fight right from within her, right out of the gate. Inej had prided herself on her strength, the sure-footed woman she was becoming, a woman who knew what she wanted and needed. So why, on her first return to Ketterdam after they’d held hands, was she sitting so far away from him, twisting her fingers through the ends of her braid like a girl with a schoolyard crush?_

_If Kaz had noticed, he didn’t say anything. He had business on his mind, and for once, Inej was grateful for it. They sat side by side on the roof of The Slat as the end of the day neared, the tile roof tops of the city a burnt orange in the setting sun, and they talked at great lengths about the targets Inej was tracking at sea, about the connections Kaz had uncovered in Ketterdam. Kaz had that scheming, faraway look on his face while she talked, his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows and his collar unbuttoned, and all Inej wanted was for him to look at her._

_It’s exactly what you feared, she thought to herself. Shoulder-to-shoulder, fully clothed, faced forward so our lips will never touch. How had she let herself do this?_

_She was going to demand more. She deserved more. Kissing had not gone well for either of them, but there had to be **something**. Some gesture that could soothe the ache she felt to be nearer to him. So, when the conversation lulled, she summoned up her courage and scooted the distance between them. And she leaned to rest her head against his shoulder, against the swell of his upper arm, warm and solid beneath his shirt’s linen against her cheek._

_It did the trick. She heard his breath catch, and he turned his head to look down at her nestled against him. And one side of his mouth tugged upwards._

_“Hello.” The rasp of his voice was a little different this time. Softer. Like a new discovery._

_“Hi,” she said back, and bit her lip nervously. His smile ticked a little wider as he glanced down at their shoes, their legs that dangled off the ledge of the roof._

_“What are you thinking?” Inej prodded softly._

_“This is nice.” Kaz shot her another brief smile, like a secret, and Inej wished she could capture each one and wrap them up in her pockets for later. “I like this,” he said._

_“Me, too,” she agreed._

_And after a moment, Kaz straightened himself and snaked his arm around her, resting his hand lightly on the crest of her hip. Her stomach fluttered happily, and she shot him an encouraging smile as he tucked her a little closer. And for a few blissful moments, she thought of nothing else. Just the warmth of his body close to hers, his fingertips nervously fiddling with the hem of her shirt. She rested a hand against his torso, as if she could soothe the rise and fall of his anxious breath, and slowly he leaned his head to relax atop hers._

_“Inej.” Kaz was first to break the silence, and her name in his mouth sounded almost reverent. “If this is all I ever want, would that be enough for you?”_

_“Is this all you want?” Inej had a hard time believing Kaz Brekker’s greed could ever be satisfied._

_Sure enough, and even though he couldn’t look her in the eye, Kaz gave his honest answer: “No. But it might be all you get.”_

_He’d meant it to be a realistic assessment of his own limitations, she knew that. She did. But it didn’t stop an ancient echo from reverberating through her mind, one she thought had never mattered. One she thought she’d buried long ago._

_“Don’t let him lose interest in you, Lynx.” The crack of Tante Heleen’s fan, the press of its sharp edges lifting her chin. The smell of the grease paint smeared over her bruises. “This one’s an investor. Ghezen only knows what he sees in you. But if you lose this one, Lynx, it’ll be half rations for you for a month.”_

_Wrapped in Kaz’s arm, she swallowed hard and shoved it down deep._

_“I’ve never known you to stop fighting for what you want,” she said._

_“Lay down your armor. Never stop fighting.” Kaz was quoting her. “You might be my most dangerous game, Wraith.”_

_“I thought that’s what you liked about me,” Inej said with a wry smile, and her heart rammed against her chest when Kaz softly planted his lips against the top of her head._

_“Very much,” he said against her hair._

_Tante Heleen’s opinions of men – opinions of anything, really – weren’t to be trusted or even considered. This was different. Kaz was different. It was. He was. This wasn’t going to get under her skin. It wasn’t._

But it already had.

He hadn’t told Jesper. _Jesper._ Was this what she was? Forever someone else’s dirty little secret? Saints, now she resented him.

She was no one’s dirty little secret. Never again.

“I’ll have you know,” she whispered to Jesper, “he does a lot more than stare these days.”

Jesper immediately caught on to her insinuating tone, and his eyes widened.

“Has he…? Are you two…?”

All Inej had to do was shoot him a series of sly, weighted looks, and Jesper was clutching at his chest like he was having a delightful heart attack.

“Have you _kissed_? _You’ve kissed._ You’ve _done more than kissed._ Have you _slept_ with him?!”

“No, not that.”

“Inej!”

“What? He should have told you.”

“ _You_ could have told me, you podge!”

“I know how you felt about him once. It felt like…gloating.”

“Bygones, love. I’m with Wylan, who’s a far better man for me and a hell of a lot less complicated. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Just tell me he’s good to you. No one will ever be deserving of you, but tell me that he’s at least trying.”

“He’s trying in so many ways, really. He’s gentle and patient and perceptive--”

“We’re still talking about the same person, right?”

“He has many sides, Jes.”

“Some would say that’s a sign of madness, you know.”

Jesper stifled a yelp as Inej jabbed at him with her foot again, twice, harder this time.

“I’m happy for you, I am,” Jesper insisted, squirming away from her feet. “Honestly, I’m happy for you both. He’s a weird little bastard, but he comes by it honestly. And, fine, I say it out of love. You both deserve something normal and good.”

They turned their attention back to the streets, waiting for the shifting shadows under the lamplight. True, lookout duty was peanuts compared to the high-stakes positions they used to run in Kaz’s schemes, but this was what the boss himself had requested. It seemed like Kaz wanted them there more out of sentimentality than actual functionality, like he couldn’t manage arranging a normal get-together with the people he considered friends. It was fine; they were used to it. This was what happened when you cared for the Bastard of the Barrel.

Inej glanced at Jesper from the corner of her eye.

“You’re mad at him for not telling you, aren’t you?” she asked. Jesper’s eyebrows went up.

“Oh, yes, we will have words about that.”

And that was enough to settle the steady creep of self-consciousness for now. She wasn’t sure if it abated the resentment, and she had to sit with the uneasiness, this inner turmoil of not really knowing if she should be angry with him. Was this unease because of Kaz? Or was this because of some manipulative lie Tante Heleen had been prone to spouting, one that had buried itself deep in her psyche against her will?

_“Don’t let him lose interest.”_

_“What, is this beneath you, Lynx? You think very highly of yourself for a spoiled little whore, don’t you?”_

_“Who do you think you are?”_

It was often like this. There were so many moments with Kaz that sent her heart pounding, her skin flushing. At the same time, in the darker moments, it was often difficult to tell the difference between her own paranoia and Kaz’s shortcomings.

She hated that. A sea captain required a clear view. A heart required aim to land true. She was trying her best, really. But these damn crosswinds could really fuck things up.

_One warm summer’s night in Ketterdam, Inej didn’t want to leave The Slat. She’d intended to whisk herself back to where The Wraith was docked for the night, but Kaz had been making her laugh all evening. They’d even stolen a kiss on the roof while the sun set, a kiss that had set her heart racing. She was still warm from the soft press of his mouth while they climbed back inside, retreating from mosquitoes._

_She had no plans whatsoever. No thought at all about what she wanted next. Kaz had reclined on the bed first while they talked some more, one hand behind his head, his bad leg stretched out long. She hadn’t planned any of it. He’d looked comfortable there, in his white undershirt and suspenders unhooked and loose at his hips. Her only thought was to get comfortable, too._

_She stretched out next to him on her side while she finished a thought, leaning against her elbow with her head propped in her hand. For a moment, it seemed as normal as breathing. But when he rolled to his side to face her, the look on his face changed everything. Her breath caught._

_Oh. Oh, Saints. What had she done? What was she doing here, lying in a man’s bed?_

_But the smile on Kaz’s face. Soft, in spite of his sharp cheekbones and jawline. Gentle, even with all of his crookedness. Full of boyish charm. Like she was the only thing in the world he ever wanted to lay eyes on again._

_“Could I touch you?” he ventured, almost in a whisper, and she was torn between wanting to flee and wanting to melt into his sheets. Instead, she nodded. She would refuse to believe Tante Heleen’s screeches in her head, acidic lies that she really was a whore all along._

_Kaz never started with her skin. There was safety in knowing he literally couldn’t just seize her, that he’d vomit and faint long before doing anything untoward. That night, his fingertips barely brushed against her arm, tracing the stitching along her shoulder cap as if he’d suddenly taken an interest in tailor work, when, in reality, his coffee-black gaze never wavered from her face._

_He was waiting to see what she would do. Would this be too much? Would she recoil from him? And when she didn’t protest, he began to slowly, so slowly trace the edges of his fingers over her side. The crest of her ribcage that rose and fell with her breath. The curve of her waist. Up the rise of her hip. Back again. All the while, his eyes flicked back and forth between the trail he forged and the expression on her face._

_And even though he was only touching her over her clothes, her whole body flushed, hot and uncomfortable. This felt dangerous. Like striking a match near gunpowder, waiting for it to ignite._

_“I can’t tell what you’re thinking,” Kaz said, at long last. She swallowed, trying to find her voice._

_What was she thinking? She was aware of every single jut of bone he touched, every single scar and imperfection his fingertips hadn’t found yet that could possibly make him lose interest. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from that face he was making, that face like he was in absolute awe of her, because she needed to believe that face was the genuine article this time. She wanted to forget every other face that had worn that expression, because they had always been the worst ones. With that face came the hope that she mattered a little more than the flesh they’d been offered. That face, she’d once dreamed, would do something about where she was, what had happened to her. And they never, ever did. More often than not, of all of the perverse filth that frequented the Menagerie, the men who wore that face had the most violent, depraved tastes. They played with girls like toys. They were the men who made her cry._

_How in the world was she supposed to begin to say all that to Kaz? Right now, in this moment, when he was the one making that face? When she wanted more than anything for that face to be real, and if it wasn’t, she wasn’t sure she could recover this time._

_“I’m trying to trust you,” was all she could think to whisper back._

_“As a rule, I rarely advise trusting anyone in the Barrel,” Kaz replied, his eyes following his fingers down the slope of her waist._

_She knew he liked to say cheeky things like that. She knew he tended to use them to deflect feelings that threatened to overwhelm him. There was nothing malicious in it -- it was survival. She knew that._

_But these damn crosswinds._

_She smacked his hand away, lightning fast, and shoved herself upright on the bed, breathing hard. She forced her gaze down at her kneecaps, away from what she was sure was Kaz’s startled, confused expression. She couldn’t take that right now, too._

_“I only meant --” Kaz was ready with excuses as he lifted himself up onto one elbow._

_“You can’t say things like that.” She turned to look at him, fiercely. Her breathing was shallow, and she hated it. “You can’t say things like that, in moments like this, if you don’t really mean them.”_

_“Okay.” Kaz blinked, immediately chastened. “Okay. What was different about this moment?”_

_Inej pressed her eyes into the heels of her palms with a frustrated groan. The whole room felt hotter, the walls tighter._

_“Stop. Look at me.” Kaz lifted a hand to try to hold her wrist. It took a couple tries -- his bare hand flinched back from her skin twice like she was a hot iron before he managed to hold on and pull her hand from her eyes. “Without armor. You said without armor. Tell me what just happened.”_

_“Damn you,” she grumbled, cursing him for throwing her own words back at her._

_“I know. I’m the worst.”_

_And Inej fixed her eyes on him with all the seriousness she could muster._

_“You’re not, though. That’s the problem.”_

_“Now I’m really lost. Am I being insulted or flattered?”_

_“Kaz, I know exactly what the worst looks like. You are not the worst, as much as you might try to wear its disguises. And when we are together – like this – I need you to try very hard to not put on those disguises. I need to trust that you are not actually the worst.”_

_His face now was one she trusted, the face of a thief who’d managed to catch an expensive vase just before it fell and broke. He knew exactly how badly he’d fumbled things. He gave a little nod, and Inej felt a slump of relief at the realization that she wasn’t going to have to explain the gritty details behind her metaphors._

_“I think I’ll head back to Fifth Harbor. I think I’ll see you in the morning,” she said. She felt too shaken by her own memory. Everything felt tainted._

_Kaz withdrew his hand from her wrist without a word, letting her go. Although, she was quite sure she heard him stifle a frustrated groan into his pillow as she slipped into the night._

So, there had to be a reason he hadn’t told Jesper. She knew there had to be. Maybe not a good one, but certainly not malicious. She knew it. Why did she still feel so terrible?

_Fucking Heleen._

“Does anyone else know?” Jesper was asking in a whisper, while he peered over the ledge.

 _Oh, shit._ Now she felt worse. And Jesper could read her silence the way some people read cards.

“You told Nina, didn’t you?” He rolled his eyes. “Oh, come _on_.”

“I needed advice!”

“But there are so few things on which I am qualified to give advice, _but this is one of them._ ”

“I’m sorry!”

“I could have helped. I am an exceptional and attentive lover. Ask Wylan.”

“I think I won’t.”

“Then that’s your loss.”

Inej undid a canteen of water on her belt and took a swig. She’d forgotten how tedious lookout duty could be. Why did they still let Kaz talk them into this? They’d each asked same question of the other, and neither had a solid justification. They didn’t need the money, though Kaz had offered plenty. They both agreed it had just sounded like fun. Shiny and fun. Like old times. Once a Crow, always a Crow.

Screwing the cap of her canteen back on, she considered Jesper and her simmering resentment a moment before suggesting:

“You could tell him to take me on an actual date to make up for hiding me from you.”

Jesper whipped his head toward her, an eager glint in his eye.

“You really want me to do that? Because I will do that. I’ll punch him right in the face.”

“Who said anything about punching?”

“I did. I’m having punching feelings. I don’t care if he is Kaz Brekker. The fucking _nerve_ of that guy--”

“ _Don’t_ start a fight, Jesper.” Inej let out a throaty, frustrated sigh. “Forget I said anything.”

But Jesper was shaking his head, still stewing.

“I’ll be damned before anyone makes _the_ Captain Inej Ghafa feel like a side piece. _You_ should be hiding _him_.”

“Oh, Jesper.” Inej leaned her head against the factory roof ledge with a weird mix of fondness and frustration in her heart. “He wasn’t hiding me like that. There’s some Brekker-ish explanation that I need to hear, I think. This is what we do. We complicate things. We unwind the mess. We repeat. And _it’s worth it--_ ” She emphasized before Jesper cut her off “—because he loves me, and I him, so please reconsider the punching.”

Jesper blinked a few times.

“He loves you? He said that?” A small, pleasantly-surprised smile quirked at the edges of his mouth. “Kaz Brekker said the words? To your face?”

Inej couldn’t contain the smile that spread from the flutter in her stomach at the memory.

“He has,” she replied.

“Well, son of a bitch,” Jesper’s smile swelled to a wide grin. “That just leaves me with one question.”

“Which is?”

“Do I throw a party before or after I punch him in the face?”

“ _Jesper,_ ” Inej groaned.

_Kaz had told her he loved her when they were in bed together. No, not like that. But sometimes Inej liked to tell the story to herself that way since it sounded far more risqué and befitting of a privateer than the actual truth of it._

_The truth was that she had been a complete idiot. While she had been at sea, she’d taken a shot to the shoulder – a clean through, superficial wound that should have been easy to treat. But the rescue that time had been large, with many scared girls crowding her berth, and many mouths to feed on the way to Novyi Zem_ , _and she’d neglected it out of sheer exhaustion. After they had made the drop at Shriftport and began their return to Ketterdam was when the infection began to set in. They were still days from Fifth Harbor when the fever spiked, and her ship’s medik had forced her to take to her bed. She began to swim in and out of feverish sleep, unaware of how dire the situation was becoming._

_She didn’t know who had brought her a Healer when they finally docked in Ketterdam, nor who had thought to alert Kaz to her state. All she knew was that when she began to awaken again, more alert than she’d been in days, the first sight that came into view was Kaz lying on his side next to her, on top of the blankets that covered her. They were in her narrow bed in the captain’s quarters, where a mess of bandages and tonics littered the desk at the foot of her wrought iron bedframe. Kaz’s tailored black coat had been flung carelessly over the disarray. The porthole window was open, letting in a fresh stream of daylight and warm harbor air. Bells clanged and gulls screeched off in the distance, but all that really mattered was that Kaz was here, holding her to him with one of his arms tucked under her head, and she was going to be okay._

_For a moment, neither of them spoke, while Kaz’s black eyes darted over her face with exhaustion and desperation. A lock of his dark hair hung near his eyes._

_“What’s wrong?” she asked finally. Her mouth felt dry and parched. A visible wash of relief seemed to rush through Kaz’s body._

_“I can’t feel my arm,” he said instead, of the limb holding her body._

_“Then let go.” Inej rolled her eyes. Ridiculous man._

_“No.” Kaz tensed and edged his forehead a little closer to hers. “No,” he repeated. This was about a lot more than his arm._

_“I’m all right,” she insisted, though she could have used a drink of water._

_“You’re a podge, is what you are,” Kaz rasped with a frown._

_“Your bedside manner needs work,” Inej told him._

_He didn’t have a retort for that, but instead, lifted his free arm and worked off his leather glove with his teeth. Then he rested his bare hand atop the scratchy blankets over her stomach, an invitation to pull closer._

_But when Inej inched her fingers to his skin, his breath hitched, though he remained still. She ran her fingertips across the scars on his knuckles ever so gently, as they’d done many times before to help him become accustomed to the feel of skin against skin. He reacted now like he’d reacted back then -- shutting his eyes, forcing himself to bear it. Only then did she start to realize how terrible this ordeal must have been for him. To have held her in fear of losing her, unable to tear himself away, all the while knowing that if she died in his arms, he would have had to touch dead flesh again -- her dead flesh. It must have seemed to him like a very real possibility to have set him back like this._

_“I’m sorry,” she whispered, as he began to calm beneath her touch._

_“I’ve been known to display similar negligence,” he said with a cavalier shrug, and Inej thought of his bad leg._

_“I won’t do it again,” she said, because she wanted him to promise the same thing. She didn’t want him dying in her arms, either._

_“Yes, you will,” Kaz said, huffing a ghost of a laugh, because neither of them could make such a promise._

_“Do you need anything?” He was quick to change the subject before Inej began to raise objections._

_She asked for a glass of water, and as he rose from the bed, wincing when his bad leg protested, she began to take stock of her own body. And realized they’d taken her top off, laying the wound open to the air for a time to keep it from beginning to fester. Her face heated, not from fever, and she began to pull the blankets up to her neck, shameful tears burning in her eyes._

_“What’s this?” Kaz’s brows pulled together when he turned around and noticed her panic. She pinched the bridge of her nose with shaking fingers. This was ridiculous, was what it was. Things had been heated between them before – he had touched her over clothes when she’d allowed it, had seen her in varying stages of undress when she’d wanted, only ever what she thought he’d want to see. “Don’t lose his interest,” that lying voice would hiss before she could get too carried away._

_“It’s nothing,” Inej insisted, eyes shut tight, as she took the glass and gulped down the water. She didn’t want to be this way. She was so tired of being this way._

_“Inej.” Kaz sat next to her, the burr of his voice gentle and concerned. He laid a hand at the top of her head, carding the pad of his thumb through her dirty hair. She took back what she’d said about his bedside manner and wondered where he’d picked this up. Maybe his father held him this way in nearly-forgotten time. Or maybe Jordie._

_“You’ve made this face before,” he pointed out. “Just tell me what it is already. Whatever it is, I can take it.”_

_He’d trusted her with his own horrific tale, of paddling through the harbor using his dead brother’s body. Fair was fair. The deal was the deal._

_“I have scars,” she said, her fist clutching the bunched sheets at her neck._

_“I know.” Kaz looked a little perplexed._

_“Scars on me and in here--” She tapped her temple. “Scars that want me to believe that if you saw everything--” She sighed and swallowed hard. Oh, here it was. She was going to lay it all out. “If you really saw it all, the scars and the bony bits and the strange bumps, and the horrible things I had to do to survive the Menagerie, the way other men saw me, then you would be disgusted. You would be like every other man who’s pretended to care for a single night with me. You would lose interest. I don’t think I could bear it. I know I couldn’t, not with you.”_

_Kaz leaned back against the bedframe, his legs out in front of him, as he stared against the opposite wall of the captain’s cabin. He said nothing for a moment. He was only blinking, his face blank._

_“Say something,” Inej demanded, her heart in her throat._

_“I’m processing.” Kaz closed his eyes a moment. “You’re afraid that **you** will disgust **me**?”_

_Was it disbelief that was making him act so strange?_

_“I know I shouldn’t. I know it shouldn’t even matter.” Inej’s face felt hot. “I know it’s because of the Peacock. She got under my skin, and it makes me want to peel off hers.”_

_“Gods, I love it when you talk like that,” Kaz muttered under his breath. She rolled her eyes and poked him in the thigh with her good arm._

_“Maybe it is the Peacock,” Kaz course-corrected himself, “or maybe I haven’t made myself clear. Maybe if you really knew my mind, you would know you have nothing to fear.”_

_“Tell me your mind, then,” Inej pressed, intrigued. And Kaz let out a long sigh, slowly shifting and sliding down to rest his head beside her on the pillow again._

_“I was afraid you’d ask that.” He stared up at the low ceiling, his hands folded over his torso. “But you did just nearly die. I suppose this is the time for this sort of thing.”_

_“Why are you afraid?” Inej wanted to know._

_“Similar reasons.” And Kaz looked over to her, dark eyes glittering. There was no armor here. “I’m afraid if you really knew my mind, if you really knew how often I thought of you, how long I’ve thought of you this way, how many times I’ve lied to keep you at arm’s length because it seemed easier than loving you and losing you.” His voice was becoming more frenzied, confessions spilling over the sheets. “How the work piles up in my office when you are away because I can’t stop thinking about you. The truly unspeakable lengths I would go to if it meant I could hold you and touch you the way I ache to. And that sometimes I can’t eat or sleep for thinking of it. If you knew you had that kind of power over me. If you knew all these things, if you knew how desperately I want you and how deeply I love you --” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “—I think you might think I’m obsessed and despise me. Or find me pathetic. Or laugh at me. Or tell your friends and then they’ll laugh at me. And none of these outcomes seem to be in my best interest.”_

_He huffed a sharp exhale, like he’d pushed off a dead weight, and swallowed again, his cheekbones beginning to burn red. Inej’s mouth felt dry again. She wasn’t entirely sure she was still in human form. She might have melted into a pool of molten hot lava._

_“You have such a way with words,” she whispered, breathless._

_“Thank you.” Kaz’s voice sounded hollow as he looked back at the ceiling. Whatever response he was expecting, this wasn’t it. She’d try to fix that._

_She bent her good arm to touch his cheek, turning his face toward her, and leaned as far as she could toward his mouth. He closed the distance, meeting the slant of her lips softly. His eyes were still closed when her lips left his, as if savoring the last bit of her taste._

_“I love you, too,” she murmured, her nose brushing against his, “and I’m sorry I’m not making it sound half as nice as you did. It’s just because I have this gaping hole in my shoulder – see it? It’s very disgusting.”_

_But Kaz touched his fingertips to her jaw, traced the hollow of her cheekbones. His gaze was soft and tender, as if her voice his whole world. Her heart skipped a beat. The Peacock had no lies to spread in her mind about this._

_“Say it again,” he requested._

_“I love you, Kaz.”_

_And he gave a small, contented hum, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth._

_“Sounds perfect to me,” he said._

He had said he loved her. That should have been the end of her troubles. _Why hadn't it been the end of it?_

Inej checked the lamp lit street below one more time. All clear. 

“Show time,” Jesper whispered to Inej, and lit a lantern, blinking out a signal across the clay rooftops.

On the other side of the Barrel, a rumble began to shake the cobblestones, an explosion echoing through the neighborhood.

“And there’s your lover,” Inej said with a wink. Jesper grinned.

It was Wylan’s diversion. Kaz had wanted a lot of noise and minimal damage for maximum Black Tip confusion. He wanted them running in circles, trying and failing to find the source. No one had any doubt the boy wonder would come through.

Holstering their guns and sheathing their knives, Jesper and Inej dashed for the roof’s edge, making their plummet to the streets while clinging to a drainpipe. When the Black Tips cleared out to investigate the explosion on their turf, the Dregs would move in on the remaining thugs guarding the stash. It was up to Jesper and Inej to make sure the path back to the Crow Club remained clear of Black Tips and Stadwatch.

A humid mist swirled through the golden streams of the gas lamps while footsteps pounded against pavement in the distance. Shouts echoed through the streets in the chaos Wylan had created. Any minute now, Kaz would be leading Rotty and Roeder and Anika, hauling pallets of silver and gold bars on wheels that would hopefully not squeak too loudly. The Wraith waited in the shadows, pressed against brick, blades at the ready. Maybe overconfident in the ease of the job.

Out of nowhere, something hard cracked her on the back of the head with such force, she went sprawling forward into the street. _Sankta Alina. Sankta Petyr._ Her knives were skidding across the pavement out of reach. Her ears were ringing from the might of the blow, and she’d been too surprised to even cry out. She could only hope that Jesper, on the other side of the street, had seen, had heard.

“I knew something smelled rotten,” hissed a voice from the dark behind her. “Everything about this reeks of Dregs.”

“ _Jes--_ ” Inej had started to pull herself up to her knees, to call out, when a thin rope whirled from the black, lassoing her neck. Her attacker yanked back, hard, and she choked on her cry for help, clawing uselessly at the bindings. She was being dragged. She was being strangled. _Sankta Marya._ Spots were forming in her eyes as she yanked at the knife on her thigh. _Someone was going to bleed for this._

With a knife once again in her grasp, she drew in her strength and wound her arm through the taut rope trailing behind her. She grit her teeth. _Pull some slack. Regain some footing._ Every inch mattered. She arched her body while she pulled for slack and shifted her weight. She turned, the rope chafing at her neck, until she was on her knees facing the Black Tip, escaping the deadly drag.

And then she released Sankta Marya with the flick of a wrist. It hardly mattered that the light barely reached the alley. The blade drove straight into his gut.

Even in shadow, she could see the Black Tip was large and thick-waisted, with arms like tree trunks, but size hardly matters when there’s a knife in your liver. He staggered forward, slipping to his knees with a guttural gasp. The rope went slack, pulling Inej forward.

“Inej!” Jesper was racing across the street, reaching for his pistols at his hips. But Inej had already drawn Sankta Anastasia.

With her arm still wound in the rope, she jerked the Black Tip toward her and slashed his throat open before he could make another sound. Blood spurted in ribbons across her jacket as his mouth went slack in a squelching, useless scream. He crumpled to the pavement, pooling scarlet at her knees.

An easy night. She hadn’t even needed Sankta Vladimir.

“Oh, shit.” Jesper pulled up to a stop as Inej cut herself loose and rose to her feet.

“Took you long enough.” Her voice was raspy and sore from the rope.

Down the street, the clatter of the pallet wheels over cobblestones signaled the getaway was near. Inej nudged the Black Tip with her toe to make sure he was really dead and grimaced to herself, resenting what she had to do next. She hated wasting prayers over the souls of men who attacked women, especially from behind in the dark. _Coward._

“What business, you two.” Brekker was calling.

Jesper and Inej turned to where he waited all in black in the middle of the street, leaning against his crow’s head cane. Even in the dim lamp light, Inej could see his eyes grow wide when he saw the blood covering her from neck to knees.

“I had nothing to do with it,” Jesper denied immediately, like a child with his hand in a cookie jar.

“Are you hurt?” Kaz couldn’t stop staring. It was a lot of blood.

“None of it’s mine,” Inej said, although her throat and her head did hurt quite a bit. Kaz’s eyebrows went up. And then came a new voice.

“Oh. Shit.”

Wylan, who had made his getaway separately, was jogging in and slowed to a stop at the sight of Inej drenched in blood. He himself was dusted in grey soot but for his eyes, where the outline of his goggles remained, even though they were now pushed up into the mess of his reddish curls.

“It does none of us any good to stand around ogling,” Kaz sighed. “Anika, Rotty, Roeder, finish the job. We’ll dispose of the body. Wylan, what do you have for corrosives?”

“Whatever you want,” Wylan said, trying to give a nonchalant shrug. But he was still staring wide-eyed at the ever-expanding pool of blood on the pavement.

“Something fast-acting,” Kaz specified. He was as cold and in charge as ever. “Inej, go get cleaned up. Jesper, help me with the body.”

“Absolutely.” Jesper shot him a pointed glare. “Anything you’d like to tell me first? Anything personal and important that two people who are about to dispose of a body together ought to know about each other?”

Kaz only stared at him a beat before shifting his attention to Inej.

“Did you tell him?” he asked.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Inej countered.

“I’m so lost,” Wylan said to no one.

“She’s the one at sea all the time,” Jesper hissed at Kaz, accusingly. “You’re here. You’re with us for drinks at least once a week. You never said a thing.”

“Oh, is this about them being in love?” Wylan chimed in. And Jesper blinked in slack-jawed silence, like he’d been slapped across the cheek.

“Merchling,” he said, lowly, “if you knew and kept this from me--”

“No one told me. It’s just painfully obvious.” Wylan cut him off, holding up his hands in defense. “I assumed it was common knowledge. Can we please just get to moving the dead body out of the street?”

Kaz had the pressed-back side smirk of a father watching his son spout off his first curse words, and it was just one too many grains of salt in the wound for Jesper.

He hauled off and punched Kaz right in the nose.

“Jesper!” Inej and Wylan cried in unison as Kaz staggered, completely taken aback. He held his nose as it began to drip blood down his face.

“You’re taking her on a nice date.” Jesper jabbed a finger at him, like he could wield all the influence of an over-protective brother.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Kaz groaned into his cupped hand. Flecks of blood were leaking onto his crisp white shirt.

“Say you’re taking her on a nice date!” Jesper shouted.

“I _have_!”

“The Crow Club doesn’t count! And you’re buying her flowers. Expensive ones.”

“You’re paying to have this shirt cleaned, I hope you know.”

“Buy her flowers, or so help me--”

“Does anyone care that there’s still a dead body on the street?” Wylan wondered aloud. “Anyone?”

“I’ll buy the fucking flowers. What is wrong with you?”

“What is wrong with me?” Jesper glared daggers. “We’re out here sticking our necks out for you for no good reason, for the chance just to be around you, and you don’t have the decency to trust us with this? She was just strangled with a rope, and you’re over there standing like a statue, more obsessed with keeping up appearances than the fact that she could have just choked to death. You are _insane._ ”

The street fell silent at that. Over the gloved hand that held his nose, Kaz flicked his dark gaze back and forth between Jesper and Inej a moment, turning over this new information.

“What--” When Kaz finally spoke, his voice was disjointed and awkward. He looked to Jesper. “—what should I have done?”

Jesper released a heavy sigh.

“Anika,” he called down the street, “come help us with the body. Kaz, go make sure Inej is okay. There. Simple. You think way too much.”

Kaz hesitated. Everyone felt the strange shift. It was uncomfortable. But not bad. Jesper never wavered, staring Kaz down, daring him to defy this.

And then Kaz stretched out a gloved hand toward Inej, giving a nod in the direction of home. He looked toward Jesper again.

“I didn’t mean--” he started. The blood was still dripping from his chin. “I – I’m --”

“Save your excuses,” said Jesper, but his tone had softened. “You can tell me all of them the next time we go for drinks. And then I’m getting you drunk and you’re going to tell me all of the things you love about her, and then maybe – just maybe – I’ll consider you good enough for her.”

Kaz nodded.

“You’re still paying to have this shirt cleaned,” he added, as he took Inej’s hand.

“I’m still paying to have that shirt cleaned,” said Jesper, throwing up exasperated hands.

“Should I be jealous Inej never punched me in the face over you?” Wylan was saying, as Kaz and Inej began to trudge away.

“No, merchling,” Jesper told him. “Everyone knows you’re too good for me.”

*******

Inej sprawled on the overstuffed sofa in the penthouse suite at the Geldrenner, nursing a bag of ice against the back of her head and a cool, wet cloth around the blossoming bruises on her neck. The Slat was still under construction and uninhabitable, which Inej didn’t mind so much if it meant sleeping in the fluffy beds at the Geldrenner. It also meant being able to order up room service, so ice was readily available – something they both needed a fair bit of.

Across from her, Kaz was hunched in one of the wingback chairs, pressing a bloody handkerchief over his nose. He’d sloughed off his bloodstained shirt so that he now sulked in only a white undershirt, his elbows propped up on his knees. He looked miserable, and maybe he deserved it. If her head wasn’t pounding, Inej might have enjoyed the view of his muscles and misery. Maybe later.

She’d taken a bath and left her bloody clothes in a heap in the bathtub. She’d deal with that later, too. All she wanted in the moment was the comforting cotton embrace of Geldrenner-provided robes. And maybe a stiff drink.

“How’s your head?” Kaz broke the silence.

“Probably as good as your face,” Inej drawled.

“He’s going to regret that.” Kaz pulled the handkerchief back to inspect it.

“Why didn’t you just tell him?” The resentment she’d tried to push down was bubbling back up again. Funny. Things that were pushed down never seemed to stay down.

“Why didn’t you?” Kaz shot her a look. _Oh, please._ Her head was in no state for this.

“Don’t be petulant,” she snapped. “Just answer the question.”

Kaz stewed while he dabbed at his nose a few more times.

“How does it look?” he asked, lifting his head back so she could get see. Bruised, from what she could tell, but the blood had stopped.

“Better,” she said.

He threw the bloody rag onto the table between them and slumped back in the chair.

“We agreed at the beginning of this it was safest if no one knew,” he said, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“That was ages ago,” Inej said. “A lot has changed since then. And it’s _Jesper._ You _like_ Jesper. And he trusts you. This was such a slap in the face to find out this way.”

“Explains the punching,” Kaz grumbled to himself under his breath.

“And it made me feel like shit,” Inej spouted. Her head hurt too much to skirt the truth. “You made me feel like shit. So tell me why.”

The look on Kaz’s face shifted dramatically at that. His eyes widened and his brow softened as shock and concern took the place of petulance and rage.

“ _You’re_ hurt?” He was only now just realizing. “But…we agreed. I don’t understand--”

Inej barked a laugh.

“Really?” she said, incredulously. “You don’t understand? Kaz, I spent years being hidden away so I could be used and discarded again and again. You don’t see how this could hurt a bit?”

Kaz’s lips parted slightly as he took in a breath. He hadn’t known. For all his cleverness and schemes, Inej Ghafa was sometimes still a complete mystery to him.

“But that’s not what’s happening and you _know_ that.” He looked like he was floundering in the water.

“I know there’s something about this you’re not telling me,” Inej pushed harder. “I can see you’re practically doing a jig to avoid telling me your mind.”

“Cripples cannot jig.”

“And you’re doing it again!”

“Fine.” Kaz forced out a frustrated groan, shoving his fingers through his inky, disheveled hair. “Fine. Here it is. In all its pathetic glory. I lose things. It’s what I do. High stakes, risky bets, big losses, even bigger rewards. I know how to lose things. But Saints help me the day I lose you. It’s not going to be pretty. And if Jesper knows about this, then I’ll have to tell Jesper about the loss, too. And I don’t want to do that. I can handle losing a lot of things, but I don’t have a single plan for managing this one. And Jesper made it fairly clear tonight that when this day comes, I’m losing both of you. The stakes could not be higher. I know it’s pathetic and selfish and weak, but I thought we had an agreement, and _please believe_ I had no idea I was hurting you.”

Inej held his gaze, letting his words sink in as she watched the terrible fear laid bare in his eyes. The hollow at the base of his throat deepened with each anxious breath.

“I don’t know how I feel about you already planning on losing me,” she said eventually.

“I can’t help it.” Kaz bunched his shoulders. “I don’t know another way to be. Please tell me it’s not happening tonight.”

“ _What?_ ” That caught her off guard. And Kaz Brekker never said please, and here he’d said it twice already. “It’s not happening tonight. I don’t want it to happen ever. Come here, come be with me.”

And Kaz rose from the chair, looking raw and more vulnerable than she’d seen him in ages. She shifted on the sofa so he could wedge himself in next to her, curled on his side between her and the sofa back. He draped an arm over her middle and tucked his head against her shoulder, pulling her close to his body. Even with the throb in her skull, she still couldn’t help melting a little, and she pushed the back the hair from his forehead before resting her head on his.

“Do you really still think I’m going to use you and discard you?” he asked. She could feel the burr of his voice in her whole body. “I thought that was as good as settled.”

Inej drew in a long breath and closed her eyes. Would there always be this shameful baggage? It was exhausting to carry around.

“It isn’t you,” she said. “Or at least it isn’t a thing you should have to fix. It’s echoes of a time that shouldn’t carry weight anymore. I’m trying, Kaz, I’m really trying to not let it knock me off course.”

“I’ll reel you back in as many times as it takes,” Kaz promised. “As long as you’ll let me.”

But Inej gave a bittersweet smile. Her Kaz. If pretty words and confessions of love could have erased the scars of the Menagerie, Kaz could have wiped her memory clean by now. No. The battle to reclaim her own love of herself was always meant to be waged alone. And Inej was not afraid to fight alone.

“That fucking Peacock,” Inej cursed, finding the right target for her rage once more. “I hope she’s stewing in her own filth somewhere.”

“Why haven’t you let me kill her yet?” Kaz craned his neck to look up at her. “Or is it that you want to do the honors? Or do you want to hire someone else to do it? Tell me how you want it done, and I’ll make it so.”

An interesting question. When it came to the problem of the Peacock, what did Inej want done to Tante Heleen? Death seemed both too easy and not harsh enough for a woman who’d made her living betraying her gender, selling that which should never be owned, and crushing and killing spirits and innocence as if it were a game. What did she want for Tante Heleen?

Inej swallowed in her swollen, sore throat, tightening a fist at her side.

“I want her to face just how disgusting she is,” she rasped. “I want her to have to live with that knowledge, that there is no one more despicable than she.” She glanced at Kaz to see his black pupils dilating. “I want to make her hate herself,” she went on. “I want to make her see how worthless and meaningless her life has been. And if after that she kills herself, it’ll have spared us all the trouble.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the mantle.

“Gods,” Kaz breathed, “do you have any idea what you do to me when you talk like that?”

“ _Kaz,_ ” Inej groaned, poking him. But he was already running his lips up the exposed skin of her neck, kissing the shell of her ear.

“Honestly, you are _diabolical_ ,” he rasped there, the word coming out like a caress. And she chuckled to herself as he shifted his weight over her. Only Kaz Brekker. He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers with insistence, nipping at her lip til she gasped.

“I love it,” he murmured against her mouth between kisses. “I’ll do it. I have so many ideas.”

Any other night, she might have lost her head here, reveling in the way his muscles moved over her body or the soft gasping sounds he made when his lips slid over hers or the press of his hips between her legs. She would have let go and let the current take her as far as they could let it carry them. But when he lifted a hand, beginning to trail his fingers against the base of her throat, between her breasts, she put a gentle hand to his wrist to stop him. Only it wasn’t because of the scars of her mind or the distracting sway of Heleen’s lies. No, this time, it was just a good, old-fashioned headache.

“Not tonight,” she said, softly, and kissed him again. He gave a sympathetic smirk as his black eyes traveled to the bag of ice on her head, and then moved to lie at her side once more.

Inej closed her eyes, relaxing into the sofa cushions. Kaz wasn’t going to lose interest because of what she did or did not do to keep his eye. Or if he did, then he was like any other man whose cruelty was a testament of his own character, and not of her steel and might. She was Inej Ghafa of the sea, of the blades in the dark, the scarred and unbroken, and she refused to be cut down by anyone who thought less of her. And that would have to include Kaz Brekker. Especially Kaz Brekker. He was not her savior. She could not expect him to be.

She would love him as fierce and true as she could. But for this one promise she made herself that night: never at the expense of what she -- and she alone -- had fought and won back from the Peacock’s clutches.

For her heart was an arrow and her dignity its target. Anything else was just crosswinds.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read all the way to the end (I know, it's long -- sorry, I can't help myself!), I'd love to know what you thought in the comments. Thanks again for reading!
> 
> For more of this kind of nonsense, come stop by my [tumblr](https://anonniemousefics.tumblr.com) and say hi!


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